


The Island

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dreams, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction, Work In Progress, more characters will show up too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:12:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an asteroid destroys the Earth in 9.9.2009, nothing is left except for one deserted island in the north china sea. A few survivors are the start of a new society that develops on the island, but the radiation from the blast changed something in their DNA. Some of the people that were born on Lian Yu from that day forward were born with the ability to travel through time and space. Those people are called Timers.</p>
<p>Oliver Queen's job is to stop The Resistance -an underground movement of Timers and non-Timers whose purpose is using Time Travel to stop the asteroid from hitting Earth, and by doing so save billions of lives - and stop everyone on Lian Yu from ever being born.</p>
<p>Everything changes when he dreams about her.</p>
<p>(Rated M for future chapters, just in case.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Island

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmmm. Kay. So here it is.  
> I'm probably gonna abandon it soon, but there's no harm in trying right?  
> This chapter is all vogue-y, I know, but what's not cleared up by the summary will be cleared up in future chapters.  
> All of the mistakes are mine. English is not my first language, so if you spot any errors, please let me know!  
> I hope this doesn't suck, but if it does, then I'm sorry. If it doesn't... Enjoy!

"Oliver" she breathed his name as if it was a prayer, as if she couldn't quite believe she was worthy of pronouncing it. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest as his name fell gracefully from her lips. She sounded like she was lost at sea and that single word was the only thing keeping her from drowning. He never knew his name could be so pretty, he barely recognized it.

She was beaming up at him, her eyes sparkling, full of emotion - she was  _glowing_ , radiating as much light and warmth as the sun itself. He had the urge to look away, avoid the intensity of her gaze, but no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't. He was captivated by her. She was more beautiful than anything he has ever seen; deep blue eyes and long lashes framed behind black glasses. Smooth skin that was somehow both fare and colorful. Full lips painted in the boldest shade of pink. Blonde, wavy hair gently blowing in the wind. Soft features that fit perfectly to her delicate curves. Legs that went on forever despite her petite form. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her.

She didn't move, and neither did he. Every muscle in his body became un-functional, including his tongue. They never met before, he knew, but that did nothing to lessen the effect she had on him nor the sense of familiarity there was to her.

"Who are you?" he managed, but that appeared to be the peak of his ability, because he tried taking a step forward and his feet wouldn't budge. She still had the same expression, her smile was dazzling.

"You don't know me yet. But don’t worry, you will." He was finally beginning to grasp control over his body again, and he thought that maybe it was only because she was allowing it. Like her answer was a permission of a sort. Reluctantly he tore his eyes away from her and took in his surroundings. They were in a shoreline, ships lining up the wooden docks. There was a metal pole with a big clock at the top of it right behind the woman; the dials were frozen on 11 hours, 17 minutes and 2 seconds. There were several cheap looking shops around him. Seagulls were circling above the two of them and the smell of the ocean hung heavily in the air. He didn't recognize any of it, so he's clearly never been there before. And then it dawned on him, that he had no idea how he got there  _now_.

He heard her voice before he could ask. "You're dreaming" she explained calmly.

His head snapped back to her. "Dreaming? No, it can't be. This is real,  _you_  are real." Everything about her was far too vivid for it to be a fruit of his imagination, the way he felt when he looked at her… that can't be made up.

She still smiled – or maybe she smiled again, he wasn't sure – but it was a changed smile to the overwhelmed one she wore earlier, this smile was small, reassuring. Amused, even. "Yes, I am real. Just not yet." She looked thoughtful for a second before adding "Or is it not anymore? This whole time-travelling thing is awfully confusing. What I mean is that I do exist, and that you will find me."

"How?" He sounded a bit too desperate to his own ears but he didn't care. Only partly because it was just a dream.

"You will know when the time comes. Or did the time already pass? Ugh, did I mention how confusing time travel is? Stupid time." Oliver smiled, he couldn't help it. She was pouting and clutching her fists, her face screamed frustration. That silly tense issue obviously bothered her. It was cute and endearing, and much contrarily to the intense _everything_  she was just a minute before.

"Will you remember this? The real you, I mean." Her face cleared and she rolled her eyes before smiling at him again. This woman moved so fast it made his head spin.

"Of course not. It's your dream, Oliver, I'm just a visitor." His name sounded so much different coming out of her mouth this time, almost like a name of a board game and not of a person. He wondered how many different meanings his name could have when she's the one saying it. He was startled to realize just how much he wanted to find out. And he hasn't even actually met her yet. He didn't even know her name.

"Felicity. My name is Felicity." And after that she disappeared, as though she was never even there, left him staring at nothing.

"Fe-li-ci-ty" he whispered.

When he woke up that morning he felt something tingling throughout his body, leaving every cell in its wake trembling like a phone on vibrate. It was the kind of feeling one might get after one too many tequila shots if you take away the drunkenness. As he closed his eyes he discovered that Felicity has burned herself on the back of his eyelids – he would have tried shaking her picture away if he thought he actually could. Or if he minded her being burned there, for that matter. He opened his eyes and slowly reached for the drawer on his bedside stand. It squeaked as it opened, revealing a stack of files, a gun, his wallet, and some writing devices. Carefully he went through everything until he found a notebook and a pencil. And then he drew. He drew and he drew and he drew, he drew for hours on end, until her face stared up at him from the paper in black and white. He was going to find her. He was going to find Felicity.

***

Stuffing his gun in its sheath and the drawing of Felicity in his pocket, he sighed heavily and glanced at his wrist-watch. His meeting with Waller was scheduled in five minutes. A heavy stone settled deep in his gut. Oliver had hoped that it would get easier, in time, to receive new missions, to get them done. As it appears, his hopes were in vain. It’s not the execute of the missions Oliver was having trouble with – that part was easy enough. After all, he was the best. And isn't that why the Congress has recruited him in the first place?

No, the problem was the toll the missions were taking on him mentally. It would have been easier if he believed in the cause he was fighting for. And he did, he wouldn't have been fighting for it otherwise. It was just that he in equal parts believed in the cause of the people he was fighting  _with._ The difference was that if The Resistance was the one to achieve its goal, it would mean the death of everyone he cared about – everyone he  _knew,_ along with his own. So if saving the people he loved meant killing, so will be it. Didn't mean he has to like it, though.

He collected the files from the drawer, placing them under his arm he closed his eyes before concentrating on the address in which the meeting was supposed to take place. His body went light – exactly like it did every time he space-traveled – and then returned to its normal weight less than a second later. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know that he has reached his destination; the usual café at the north of Lian Yu. As a kid the quick pace of the Travel had startled him, made him feel confused and disoriented but now he loved that rush as much as he loved the Travel itself. Unconsciously, he rubbed the mark at the base of his right palm.

Oliver took a swift look around him and spotted Waller sitting under a parasol - her legs were crossed, her back straight and her lips sipping coffee from a small china cup. He made his way towards her, pulling the files from under his arm as he stood next to the chair in front of her. “Amanda” he said in a way of greeting.

“Oliver” she acknowledged and motioned for him to sit. He did. “Do you have the reports from the last mission?”

“Yes.” He replied as he slid the files across the coffee table until they were in her reach. “I don’t have any comments, the mission went smoothly and the target was eliminated. All the details are mentioned in the reports.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up in satisfaction. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was as close as it comes to it with Waller. “Good Job, Mr. Queen.” She said, picking the files up and putting them away in her leather work case. “Now,” she paused just long enough for her to rest her elbows on the table, her fingers intertwining in front of her in a serious matter “regarding your next mission: Mr. Merlyn will wait for you at 9:30 a.m. on the 5th of February 2009 in Starling City, USA. You will meet him in a place called Big Belly Burger, he will debrief you there. What you need to know right now is that the Resistance is trying to build an underground tunnel connecting Starling City and Lian Yu, and they must be stopped by all means possible. Do not take prisoners.” Oliver felt his hands turning into fists as he squeezed his eyes shut in a mix of regret and frustration.

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Queen?” it sounded like a threat more than a question. He answered anyway.

“They are good people, Amanda. They are simply doing what they think is right. They don’t deserve to die for it.” He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try.

“Neither do we. They may be good people, Oliver, but they are not innocent. All those people they are trying to save in 9.9.2009? They are already dead. But we’re alive, and we exist, which will cease to be the case if The Resistance were happen to succeed. They wish their own death, then let it come to them.” She spoke calmly, disturbingly so. As if the matter of the conversation was boring politics instead of life or death. She was right though, he knew, but somehow that only made things worse. Waller reached for her coffee, with the same alarming calmness, and when she did Oliver got a glimpse of the mark at the base of her palm. The one that was identical to his. The one that branded her as a Timer, just as it did him. The mark was a black asterisk, of which the top two points were connected with a line that created a small triangle.

Sometimes he hated that mark; without it the events of the 9.9.2009 were unchangeable and he wouldn't be in this mess. But then he remembered his dream, and how Felicity said that she doesn't live in his time – or implied it, at least – and he knew that if he wasn't a Timer he never could have meet her. Suddenly he felt so very grateful for that damned mark, even though consciously he knew it was weird that he felt the anticipation of meeting a woman he dreamed about once more strongly than he felt his hatred for the war. Did it make him a bad person? Or did that already happen ages ago?

The sound of Waller clearing her throat snapped him back to reality. “Okay.” He said, and the stone in his gut grew heavier. “No prisoners. Got it.”

“Good. You leave tomorrow first thing at dawn. Rest well tonight, Mr. Queen. And remember what I said; they may be good, but they are not innocent.”

After nodding solemnly Oliver stood up, and then he traveled back to his apartment. As he appeared in his room he let his mind wander to tomorrow’s mission: he can allow himself doubts for tonight, as long as they’re gone when he wakes up. He couldn't afford having anything less than his absolute A game while he’s out there.

 

Kicking off his shoes, Oliver fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. Today, year 3501. Tomorrow, year 2009.

**Author's Note:**

> This plot is inspired by an Israeli TV show called Ha-E, (The Island) written by Gyora Hamizzer.  
> This is work in progress, so what you see on the tags won't stay that way for long, but as it is I'm not exactly sure which characters will or will not appear in this story. There will definitely be more than just these four, though.  
> I do not own anything, all rights reserved to CW network.  
> Tell me what you think!


End file.
